


We Were Never Built To Last

by CupidStrikes



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Blood, Broken Bones, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 17:31:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8066032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupidStrikes/pseuds/CupidStrikes
Summary: Keith can't give the enemy any chance of an opening or he'll be overwhelmed and he is not going to let them get to Shiro. He had promised him never again, and nothing but death would make him break it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a prompt on the Voltron Kink meme - "Keith/Shiro or not-yet-acknowledged Keith-->Shiro. They're caught in a fight somewhere, and Keith is getting nearly feral, savagely protective of Shiro lying behind him; even though Shiro isn't moving anymore, and has stopped telling him it'll be okay..."
> 
> First time writing an extended action piece, so constructive feedback is appreciated :)
> 
> TW/CW - Blood, broken bones, lots of violence, near-death experiences, extreme injury, and some mention of medical procedures.

**We Were Never Built to Last**

  
  


_ And what will happen? _

_ Will I dream? _

_ I am too scared to close my eyes _

  
  


Blocking another hit, Keith bounces back on the balls of his feet and darts his head left and right to take in the advancing soldiers. They've been fighting for what feels like an age, against wave after wave of same-faced robot soldiers, and a few flesh and blood Galra commanders. Looking up Keith is sure he can see another warship approach – a dark blip on the horizon that blots out the stars as it approaches. He shakes his head and swipes the back of his hand across his face to wipe off the blood, sweat, and other fluids he doesn't want to think about, swallows and grins darkly at the approaching aliens.

 

“Come on then, I could do this all day!”

 

It's empty talk, and Keith knows it, but he needs some reassurance here. The rest of the team are elsewhere on the planet – hopefully actually gathering the intelligence they had come seeking – but his communicator is broken, damaged from a blow to the head during the crash that had him blacking out for second and has left the vision in his left eye slightly fuzzy, the colours oversaturated and bright. Their rendezvous point could be miles away from where the battle has taken him, or a crater entirely from the explosions that had marked the beginning of the fight.

  
  


* * *

  
  


It was supposed to be a simple reconnaissance mission. Land on the planet, break into the Galra base there, Pidge would hack the mainframe, they would cause some havoc and then high tail it before the big guns could show up. Getting in had been simple. They had done it plenty of times before, and on planets more populated and thus more heavily guarded than this, and when they had gotten in without meeting a single guard or drone, it had looked like plain sailing.

 

“And, all done, just decoding now,” Pidge sits back on her arms, watching the symbols of the Galra language blink on the screen as the downloads began.

 

“Good. The sooner we leave the better,” Keith nods and leans back against one of the inactive consoles, folding his arms and tapping his foot idly against the floor as he waits. These missions always set him on edge ever since the incident with the Druid back on their first infiltration. He shudders at the memory and shakes his head to clear it.

 

“Wait a sec,”

 

Pidge sits up so fast it makes the other Paladins jump.

 

“What is it?” Shiro's right hand glows brighter as he looks around, but Pidge grabs his wrist and keeps it against the scanner before he can move. “Galra?”

 

“No, look!” Pidge jabs a finger at the screen and grabs for her laptop, fumbling with it and nearly dropping it before she can pull the image up again. It's grainy and out of focus , but the colours are enough and there is no mistaking the resemblance.

 

“Matt....”

 

The tightness in Shiro's voice makes Keith look over at him and he pulls away from the console and goes over, squeezing his shoulder, giving him a smile when he gets his attention.

 

“We'll find them,” he says with a confidence he isn't so sure he should have, but he knows they have to hold it together and focus.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Shiro? How are you holding up, buddy?”

 

“Fine. Good. Don't worry about me, just concentrate,”

 

Shiro's voice is tight and pinched with pain when he replies. Keith doesn't risk looking over his shoulder. Knows he can't give the enemy any chance of an opening or he'll be overwhelmed and he is not going to let them get to Shiro. He had promised him never again, and nothing but death would make him break it.

 

“Yeah?” He taunts as he notices two hulking Galra peer over his shoulder at where the Black Paladin lies behind him, “If you want at him you'll have to get through me first!”

 

He reactivates his bayard and dashes forward to meet the first one, ducking beneath the laser sword it wields and turning to slash at its side. His sword glances off the thick armour with a screech and a shower of sparks. Keith crouches and jumps up when the next attack falls, using his suit's jet pack to give him the extra clearance to sail right over the thing's head and he bashes the Galra in the face with his shield as he goes. It stumbles back. Keith lands on his feet and launches himself back into the air for another attack.

 

It doesn't land.

 

Instead he finds himself on the ground again, on his back, pain radiating through his body from his left hip and side, and he growls through it as he forces himself to move. A shadow falls over him as the Galra advance on the downed Paladin, and Keith rolls backwards, towards Shiro, and rights himself in one shaky move. He held onto his bayard in the fall, and the energy sword flashes back into life. The first Galra is on him in seconds, a roar leaving it as it slashes at him. Keith blocks it with his shield but feels the blow through his arm all the way to his shoulder. He pushes back, gritting his teeth as the bones in his wrist grind together under the strain and he activates his jetpack again for a boost.

 

The Galra staggers this time and Keith takes the opening.

 

He dashes forward and brings his sword up to stab the part of the Galra's thigh where two plates of armour meet, and is rewarded when the sharp edge slices through the material beneath. The strong spurt of blood hits him in the face and splatters across the visor of his helmet. He tastes it. Metallic and sour on his tongue, but Keith resists the urge to turn and spit as he drives the sword deeper before yanking it out. As he turns to meet the robots that have advances, he notices out of the corner of his vision that the heat from his blade has warped the metal armour plates to form a crater around the wound. He hears the Galra fall behind him as he slices one of the robots in half.

 

He doesn't hear it get up.

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Coordinates tracking.....tracking...”

 

Pidge is fiddling with her laptop. With the Galra console. With the controls. Shiro shifts impotently from where he is stood pressing his hand against the scanner to keep the computer active as Pidge scours the logs for better information, and then a landscape match on the planet.

 

“I think....Here!” She stands up as the main screen focusses on a small patch of terrain a good fifty miles away from their position.

 

“How are we going to get there when our lions are back with Lance and Hunk?” He felt like a dick when the younger Paladin wilted a little under his stare, and he could feel Shiro's eyes on him but didn't look away to meet them.

 

“There are pods further back in the ship. We can put the coordinates in and go.”

 

Shiro takes his hand away from the controls and shakes it a little as the glow fades.

 

“It'll be faster and less conspicuous.”

 

Pidge grins and Keith is sure she's going to glomp Shiro when a green and white blur dashes past him into the ship, the heels of her boot clanking noisily against the metal walkway.

 

He stares after her, at a loss until the warm, familiar weight of Shiro's hand falls onto his shoulder. He looks up and can't help but return the gentle smile on the Black Paladin's face. He wants to put his hand on top of Shiro's. He can feel the faint tremor in his fingers.

 

Keith says nothing and doesn't move until Shiro has moved his hand and is walking past him.

 

“We'll take two pods. In case one is damaged.”

 

Keith absently realises that Shiro is talking to him, Pidge out of sight up ahead ,though they can still hear her cursing at the pod computers to load up faster.

 

“We're splitting up?”

 

It sounds more accusing than Keith intends, but a small part of him doesn't care. He expects Shiro's response to be stern, unyielding, but when Shiro looks at Pidge and the new drone bot she's 'befriended' as they get the pods up and running, he shakes his head.

 

“Yeah. The area is pretty wide so we'll each start at one side and make our way across. Pidge has...er,”

 

“Toby.” Pidge supplies without looking up, elbow-deep in wires as she does...something...to release the hangar locks.

 

“Toby, right. The robot has a scanning tool, so we'll see the second set of eyes if we're to spot anything.”

 

That they each need something compatible with the Galra tech is left unsaid. Shiro smiles and heads over to the second pod to familiarise himself with the controls as Keith flounders for a moment before telling Pidge good luck and following Shiro into the pod. He sits down in the second seat and watches Shiro's hands on the controls as he waits.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Falling down onto one knee, Keith looks up at the new group of Galra robots, their armour and helmet lights glowing purple as the dust settles. Still too many. He waits, taking in a few deep breaths to try and calm his ragged heartbeat. His fingers are trembling around his bayard and sweat is slicking his gloves to his palms. He feels it rolling down the sides of his face and the back of his neck. Exertion. Tension.

 

He's wearing out and he knows it.

 

“Shiro? Just a bit longer. Pidge must've realised by now.” He swallows and spits out a mouthful of blood. He's lost a tooth where one of the robots got in a lucky blow with the side of their rifle and it won't stop bleeding. He knows when the adrenaline wears off he's going to hurt but for now he ignores it and forces himself to stand, slipping into a combat stance easily and preparing.

 

“S'okay, it'll be fine....Keith,”

 

Keith does risk a look then and he immediately wishes he hadn't. It's only a fleeting thing to assess the situation in his peripheral vision, but Shiro is still laid out on his side where he had collapsed in the little alcove Keith had found, the hand that had been keeping him in some semblance of sitting up has given in and were it not for the breathy rasp of his voice, Keith might have thought-

 

The blast from a plasma pistol hits the side of his shield and the blue light crackles beneath the hit, flickering in and out for a few seconds before staying, and Keith snarls as he meets his assailant in a flurry of sword slashes. He takes out the robot's four companions and tries to dart back to Shiro's side but is met with more. He blocks another hit and feels the presence behind him just a fraction too late before something hits him in the side of the head hard enough to send his ears ringing and black and white spots to burst across his limited vision.

 

He swears heavily and rolls with the hit, lifting up his shield on instinct alone, blinded by a dizzy spell, and he hears more than sees it fizzle out of existence entirely. He looks up and sees the world in red where blood has trickled into his eyes.

 

Above him another ship comes into land close enough that Keith can see clearly as a landing hatch opens and another Galra steps out, this one decorated in the regalia of one of Zarkon's generals. Keith doesn't know his name but he knows that he is royally fucked if he is defeated. Bad enough if he and Shiro are overwhelmed and killed by some jacked up robots. But getting captured, and getting Shiro recaptured by the Galra...Keith swallows back bile and raises his sword again.

 

“Shiro....Shiro you might want to look away.”

 

This is going to get messy and he wants to keep the Galra's attention on himself, and not worry Shiro when he's injured. He's seen the other man push himself through concussions, fractures, and wounds deep enough to show bone, and they are horribly outnumbered and if one of them is overwhelmed it will be the end for the other.

 

Keith doesn't want Shiro used against him. They've had this talk; Shiro will insist he can take it, that he knows every last little thing the Galra will thrown at their prisoners, and he doesn't want anyone else to experience it. Keith thinks it's bullshit, has told Shiro as much. That his little talk doesn't need to happen because there won't be another hostage situation.

 

“Shiro did you hear me?”

 

The Galra Commander is getting close now, any more and Keith risks giving away where Shiro is and how badly he is wounded. He closes his eyes briefly and prays to any god that will listen to a fuck-up like him that Shiro has just passed out from pain or stress or something, anything but that because of all of them in their messed up little group of misfits Shiro deserves to live and get to go home and have a happy and peaceful life.

 

“Shiro?

 

He doesn't look. Can't look now, and he selfishly hopes that the way his voice cracks on he second syllable of Shiro's name that it will spur Shiro into calling back.

 

Silence.

 

Keith hears his blood pulsing in his ears, gunfire and the deep thrumming of engines in the distance.

 

Nothing more.

 

The area around Keith is strewn with debris from the fallen robots, and shards of armour and weaponry torn apart by his attacks, and when Keith is torn out of his pleading litany by a rhythmic crunching, he knows he is out of time.

 

He adjusts his stance and lifts his sword.

 

Keith opens his eyes.

  
  


* * *

  
  


They reach the site within half an hour and Keith sits up a little straighter as Shiro slows the craft and flies in lower.

 

“So...what are we looking for exactly?”

 

Shiro doesn't look up from the feeds from the front windscreen and the sides of the ship.

 

“It looked like a square building. Only one floor. The logs said one labour team was kept here. No headcount.”

 

When Keith looks at him Shiro's mouth is set into a flat line, the edges beginning to ease downwards as they continue. Keith holds himself still and doesn't let himself think beyond their objective. The pod quivers ever so slightly now and then, barely enough to be so noticeable if it were any other pilot at the helm. Keith says nothing, just keeps his eyes on the ground below.

 

They pass nothing but empty wastelands for a long time, and Keith is trying to be patient but quickly growing frustrated. Beside him Shiro has begun to fidget, his hands fussing with the controls of the pod and when Keith sighs harshly through his teeth, Shiro startles as if he has forgotten entirely that he wasn't alone.

 

“Sorry.”

 

Keith looks over quickly, then back down at the screens.

 

“For what?”

 

Out of both of them, Shiro has the least to be sorry for. In his peripheral vision, Shiro scrapes a hand through his short hair, tugging on it hard enough to hurt and then resting the hand in his lap.

 

“This. Me. I don't know.”

 

Keith reaches over and puts his hand on Shiro's forearm, looking away from the screens at last and he shifts closer until their knees knock together.

 

“Stop it. This isn't something you have to do alone, you know that.”

 

Shiro looks up into his eyes and Keith's tongue feels leaden in his mouth as Shiro leans in and rests his brow to Keith's shoulder for a second before pulling away again.

 

“Thanks.”

 

Keith nods and is about to take his hand off Shiro's arm when it is covered and held there. Shiro's palm is warm even through the thick material of their gloves, and Keith keeps his expression carefully guarded and does his best to not break eye contact, not look away first. It would admit too much, far more than he wants to right now even if Shiro's hand is right there, and it would be so easy to knit their fingers together-

 

“Keith.”

 

The hand is gone and Shiro takes the controls and veers them down to the left so sharply that Keith barely straightens up before his seat belt chokes him. He leans over carefully to follow Shiro's line of sight and frowns when the cameras lock on and zoom.

 

It's a building below. Or, rather, the remains of one.

 

From the wall that is still standing, roof beams sticking out of the brickwork like broken fingers, it was only one story high. Small. Maybe a little bigger than Keith's shack in the desert-

 

He squashes that thought before it can fully form.

 

Shiro takes them in closer, the descent smooth and controlled even as Keith can see him getting more and more anxious the closer they get. He puts his hand back on Shiro's arm, reaches up with the other to engage the landing protocols. The muscles beneath his hand tense and shift and if Shiro notices Keith's fingers curling tighter than strictly necessary he doesn't say anything.

 

They are approximately ten feet from the planet's rocky surface when the first blast hits them.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Keith skids several feet across the barren ground before coming to a stop and the roll and lurch to his feet holds none of his usual grace as he fumbles for his bayard, the blade flashing back into life as he pushes himself up with his hands. He's lost his helmet in the scuffle. His suit is torn in several places, the ragged edges of the fabric slicked fast against his skin by blood, sweat, or both. He staggers back towards the Galra before breaking into a run.

 

The Galra isn't looking at him, but at the small rock formation, to where Shiro-

 

Keith tackles the larger foe to the floor with a snarl, attacking it as much with his fist and the hilt of his bayard as the blade of his sword. Some of the bashes dent the armour the alien is wearing, and when the side of his bayard and his fist hits its face Keith feels a grim thrill of satisfaction when one of the yellow eyes is darkened with red.

 

“Fuck off, fuck you you're not fucking having him.”

 

Keith is vaguely aware of the words he is growling, concentrating on keeping the Galra down and away from Shiro, away from Shiro,  _ away from Shiro _ -

 

_ He's going to die anyway. _

 

The sneaking thought in his ear stops Keith dead for a moment and he's not quite back to himself when the Galra gets a foot beneath him and kicks him off. He lands on his back, winded, and gasps in useless breaths as he fights back dizziness so he can get up, and he barely rolls out of the way as the same foot slams into the ground where his neck had been just seconds before. It displaces several small pebbles, and Keith is vaguely aware of one thunking against his head. He moves onto his front, digging his elbows into the ground as he forces himself back up.

 

_ Shiro's probably already... _

 

Keith swallows hard and sucks another breath into his aching lungs. The oxygen levels on this planet are sparser than Earth's. Pidge had warned them not to do anything exerting before they had left the Castle of Lions and its ambient atmosphere settings.

 

_ Where's the point if he's gone? _

 

The Galra is reaching for its fallen rifle, and Keith tightens his grip again on his bayard. His knuckles white and red beneath the abrasions in his gloves. The sword flickers once. Twice. Then goes out completely but Keith barely notices as he charges the Galra and raises the shell of his weapon and lashes out, using it as a crude set of brass knuckles. A screech echoes in his ears and around his skull and for a few slow seconds Keith thinks he has scored a particularly damaging blow on the alien, but then he realises that the screams are his own, his shredded vocal chords spitting out a sound that sounds foreign even to himself aside from two syllables.

 

Shiro.

 

_ Shiro. _

  
  


* * *

  
  


They are approximately ten feet from the planet's rocky surface when the first blast hits them.

 

The pod lurches sideways, and Keith feels himself leave the seat for a second before his head collides with the metal side of the craft. He grunts in pain, the blow reverberating around his helmet for a second longer before he shakes it off. A warning siren thrums in the back of his consciousness like a headache and Keith pushes aside the diagnostic and damage reports that appear on the screens and obscure their view of the area around them.

 

“What was that?”

 

He can only see flat ground and dark sky for miles.

 

Shiro's grip tightens on the controls and he growls as the pod continues to list to the left, taking them away from their original landing point. Shiro fights against the descent, climbing several more feet to try to bring them out of firing range and almost has the pod on a straight course when they are hit again.

 

The power dies for a sickening second before the back-up kicks in and the cabin is drenched in harsh yellow and blotches of red from the multiple failure notifications flashing up over the dashboard and console.

 

They're going down.

 

Keith grabs at the emergency landing switches, flicking each one and he grabs at Shiro's hand on the nearest control before he realises that Shiro's eyes are shut. He's dimly aware that he's yelling when one of the right-hand engines bursts into flames and Keith curses it to the deepest level of hell as he reaches over Shiro to grab the other control to try and guide them down as carefully as possible.

 

The pod shakes and a third blast skims over their left side and then they are spiralling down the final feet as it takes out one of the wings entirely. Keith turns away from the dashboard and grabs at Shiro but his safety belts hold him fast. Screaming in frustration, he reaches out to Shiro as the ground comes up to meet them fast. He feels a warm, solid presence up against his side, and then everything goes white and red before fading into darkness.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Keith collapses against the nearest rock, his fingers scrabbling against it for a hold as he struggles to stay upright. Physically, he is outmatched, and always has been, but the Galra is tiring, he's sure, and as he raises his bayard again he's sure he can outlast it.

 

A heavy paw catches his fist, each finger easily the same thickness as two of his, and Keith has just enough time to look up into the solid yellow of the Galra's eyes before pressure and pain, pain, pain, down his wrist and arm and Keith doesn't feel his knees give out until he lands hard on sharp stones that dig into the gaps between his armour. His hand falls to his side when it is released and his bayard clatters noisily off to his side somewhere. He tries to form a fist and can't. It feels like he's clutching knives, his fingers broken and bent oddly in places.

 

Satisfied that Keith is no longer a threat, the Galra walks past him.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Muted colours and shapes come to Keith first.

 

He blinks to focus.

 

Ringing in his ears and pain everywhere.

 

He tries to stand up and can't. Something heavy across his lower body pins him to his chair and when Keith looks down he is quite sure he can add 'extreme and immediate nausea' to his list of woes.

 

Shiro is slumped across Keith's lower body, his head cradled in the valley between Keith's thighs. In any other circumstance, he would have been overjoyed to have Shiro in this position, but right now he's not sure if he wants to cry or scream.

 

He settles for reaching for the dagger strapped to his waist and cutting himself free of the safety harness before reaching down for Shiro. He curls an arm around Shiro's neck and braces himself against the floor of the pod as he shifts them both forwards. Chancing a look over at the other side of the pod he realises with a sickening lurch that the belts that would have held Shiro in his seat during the crash have not been severed, and they lie in-tact at the sides of the seat.

 

“You idiot.”

 

He hisses and then says it again for good measure, repeating it as he manoeuvres them carefully towards the door. He leans Shiro up against the ruined console and tries the hatch. It hasn't been damaged in the crash, at least not badly enough to not function, and Keith shoves the door open, checking outside for any immediate danger before going back inside.

 

Shiro's arm around his shoulder and his weight against his side isn't new and Keith doesn't think about the last time they were in this position. Shiro is dead weight against him as they slowly make their way away from the burning craft, but it's okay. They're no longer under fire and Keith can't see whatever was shooting at them, and he'll take that as reprieve for now.

 

There is a small cluster of rocks a short distance away and in the absence of any other shelter or landmarks, Keith directs them in that direction, flitting his head back and forth but seeing nothing. He strains to hear beyond the tinnitus but there is nothing. Nothing but empty, heavy silence that begins to buzz begin the crunch, drag, crunch, drag, of his feet and Shiro's as they close in on the rocks at last.

 

There is a clearing between three of the taller stones that is hidden until they get close and Keith kneels slowly and lies Shiro on his back. He removes his helmet to wipe the sweat off his forehead and then gets to work. He checks Shiro's vital. Pulse. Breathing. Check. Check. There are no immediately obvious injuries but that doesn't mean much in a vehicular collision. There are dark wet spots smattered all over the visible parts of Shiro's under suit, but it's impossible to tell if it's his own, or transfer from Keith.

 

Keith had had First Aid training back at the Galaxy Garrison, but this is beyond his knowledge. He presses a hand to the side of his helmet for the comms button and presses it.

 

“Pidge? Come in, Pidge? Allura? Coran?”

 

White noise answers.

 

There is no feedback at all from Shiro's and Keith snarls and kicks his helmet against the rocks with a growl, watching it bounce and roll to rest back at his feet again. He scowls as it, feeling all his anger and frustration at this stupid, shitty situation gather up into one hot point-

 

“Your face will stay that way if you're not careful.”

 

Keith startles at the sound of Shiro's voice and a relieved little laugh bubbles out of his throat before he can stop it. He kneels at the other Paladin's side and peers over into his eyes.

 

“Hey. How....How're you feeling?”

 

“Sore,”

 

Shiro tries to shrug, winces and then aborts the gesture.

 

“How about you?”

 

Shiro reaches up with his Galra arm and the cool metal fingers trace a line across Keith's cheek that leaves a burning trail in his wake. Keith reaches up to touch the same area and his glove comes back red and wet.

 

“Fine. Nothing broken.”

 

“Good. When we went down...I thought..”

 

Anger returns, hot and strong, and Keith thumps the ground beside them.

 

“You could have been killed! What were you thinking? Shiro-”

 

Keith pauses as their helmets begin to rattle where they sit on the ground and several nearby pebble are likewise disturbed. He looks up and the very air around them seems to pulse with engine noise.

 

Movement draws Keith's attention back home and he watches Shiro try and fail to sit up. He hisses painfully through his teeth and closes his eyes as he reluctantly tells Keith where it hurts most. Chest. Left knee. Head.

 

Keith's hands are gentle on Shiro as he feels around the areas, and he shakes his head before he confirms the worst.

 

Broken.

 

Shiro's not getting far without more help than Keith can offer and they're miles from the Galra base and gods know how far off course.

 

“It's fine, we'll lay low until Pidge comes.”

 

Shiro's voice is steady with a confidence Keith has trouble believing in, but he gives Shiro a smile all the same.

  
  


It falters when a voice breaks over the hushed noises between them.

 

“Paladins of Voltron. Fugitive prisoner 117-9875. Come out and surrender yourselves and your weapons or we will use lethal force.”

 

The voice is tinny, broadcast over some sort of speaker, and when Keith creeps closer and peers out from between the rocks he can see how close the Galra already are, the purple lights from the robot soldiers' visors and weapons bobbing unsettlingly in the dimming light. There are two Galra leading the group towards their location, and as Keith turns to relay this to Shiro, he catches a snatch of conversation that runs his blood cold and makes his stomach bottom out.

 

“Don't kill the prisoner. Haggar wants her Champion brought back alive.”

 

Keith squeezes his eyes shut tight and sucks in a breath. He takes his dagger out of its sheath and presses it into Shiro's hand, giving him the best smile he can, he reaches for his helmet and puts it back on.

 

“Hang in there. I'll get rid of them.”

 

He squeezes Shiro's free hand and pauses when his hand comes away slick with blood. Looks into Shiro's eyes.

 

And then there are plasma bullets peppering the rocks around them and Keith blurts out what he hopes is a reassurance before he turns around and dashes out of the alcove to meet the Galra bearing down on them.

 

“Surrender this!”

  
  


* * *

  
  


Keith's talent was speed and agility, above all else. It was evident in his unbeaten flight simulation records back at the Garrison, in the very personality of his Lion, and it is evident now as he forces his aching body to respond and he dashes past the Galra to get to Shiro first. He skids to his knees beside him, leaving a smear of blood on the uneven rock as he abrades the skin further.

 

He crouches over Shiro and his hand slips a bit where the ground has become wet and slick on one side, and when Keith dares a glance down, his fears are confirmed.

 

Shiro is paler than ever, his eyes closed and looking like two bruises against his face. One side of his armour is a shiny red that continues until it darkens and has begun to grow tacky against the floor. Keith braces his ruined hand against the ground so that his smaller body is covering as much of Shiro as he can, and he looks back at last to face the Galra.

 

There is nothing there.

 

Keith holds his breath and leans down closer against Shiro, expecting to be set upon in an instant. Moments pass and nothing comes. Then he hears it – a muted thump, a spattering of what he thinks might be gunfire, and then the steadily increasing hum of an approaching engine.

 

He looks down at Shiro. He can't tell even from up close like this whether he's even breathing or not, but for a second he considers doing something terrible, if only to protect him from that Witch and whatever she had planned back on Zarkon's ship.

 

He shakes his head.

 

Shiro wouldn't want that, and Keith isn't sure he could live with himself, even if it were just five more suffocating minutes on this godforsaken planet.

 

Instead, he presses his forehead to Shiro's and quietly tells him that it's been an honour to know him, and to fight alongside him. All the words he can't ever get out when Shiro is awake, is lucid, and looking at him with that mix of trust and sadness that Keith can't ever decipher. He says them to closed eyes and a barely moving chest, and they spill out in a half-coherent flurry as his voice rasps out of his throat. The last word comes out on the tail end of a small gasp and hangs between them before being lost to a small gust of wind.

  
  


Keith waits.

  
  


His vision swims in and out of focus and he almost misses it when the footsteps first become audible. He braces himself on the palm of his ruined hand and looks over his shoulder.

  
  


The approaching roar of the engines has dimmed to a low, constant noise . Keith doesn't remember hearing it land but it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter, and he reaches for his dagger. He takes it from Shiro's lax fingers and ignores the red blotches on the hilt as he brings his feet up a little further. If he can get a good jump on them he might be able to take just one more out...One less Galra to torment Shiro-

 

The footsteps near and a shadow passes between the rocks at the entrance to the alcove. Keith pushes up with his feet. Dizziness slams into his head like a weight and he sways with it as he fights to keep his hold on the dagger before one knee slumps beneath him. He grabs for the shield on Shiro's gauntlet and jams it on, holding it out in front of them and adjusting his hold carefully as the Galra comes closer, and-

 

-and the shape that rounds the corner is at least four feet too short to be Galra, and Keith feels a sob rip out of his chest when he sees the little blue lights that glow in a mirror of those on his and Shiro's armour. The dagger drops from his hand and the shield buzzes as it dims and disappears. Keith slumps onto his side beside Shiro, one arm still remaining over his chest, the over-sensitive flesh of his broken fingers straining to feel a heartbeat, or the movement of lungs and diaphragm.

 

He feels nothing.

 

Keith is absently aware of the other Paladin – Pidge, he realises belatedly – kneeling on Shiro's other side and he feels more than sees her move Shiro's arms, her hands on his neck and then his chest. She's talking, but he can't make out the words. Keith feels like he’s underwater.

 

A new sound begins. A hollow, rasping noise that makes him think of the too-quick-too-shallow breaths Shiro takes when he has a panic attack, and that when he realises the noises are coming from Shiro himself. He forces himself up onto his good hand and he reaches for Shiro's chin with his broken hand.

 

Shiro's eyes are still closed and his lips are rapidly turning blue. Keith feels his heart skip a beat.

 

He is so dumbly distracted by this that he doesn't notice Pidge move until the light from Pidge's suit reflects off the polished metal of his dagger as she lifts it, and Keith is half-way across Shiro and clutching her wrist so tightly that he can feel the thin bones grind together even through her armour.

 

“What the fuck are you doing?”

 

Blood flecks Pidge's visor and lower face but she doesn't try to wipe it off. Her mouth is pressed into a thin, pale line as her other hand grabs Keith's arm and pushes his hand off. He wonders absently when she got so strong as he lets his arm fall back by his side.

 

“He's not breathing right and I need to get to his chest right now. There's no time.”

  
  


Keith sits back on his heels and watches Pidge act, feeling like he is watching from behind thick glass or through someone else's eyes entirely. Pidge's mouth moves but Keith's world is silent except for a white noise that is steadily going louder. He reaches towards Shiro but Pidge shakes her head and pushes his hands away again. He knows how to perform CPR, and how to treat bad wounds until help arrives so surely there is something he can do-

  
  


But Pidge doesn't look back up at him, and when Keith refocusses on her and not Shiro and the awful noises he is making, she is lining up a long thin s _ omething _ against the other side of Shiro's chest and holding a scalpel in her other hand. Keith freezes up.

  
  


As Pidge presses the blade to Shiro's skin, the static in Keith's ears gets louder and his head gives one final lurch, and then everything goes dark.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Keith comes to in a world of cyan. 

 

Beyond it shapes of green, yellow and sky blue dance back and forth in front of him.

 

He's cold, right down to the bone, and the sensation only increases as something rumbles beneath him and suddenly he can see everything with startling clarity and it's bright, too bright-

  
  


Keith stumbles out of the healing pod, but lands on something soft instead of flat on his face. He lifts his head slowly and looks into Lance's eyes and straight through.

 

“....ro.”

 

Keith coughs over the word, swallows thickly against his dry mouth and tries again.

 

“Shiro,”

 

Lance doesn't smile, but he steps backwards, taking Keith with him and looks to his left where Keith can see another pod docked and a dark shape inside....

 

Keith pushes out of Lance's arms and staggers across the room. The distance is nothing, he knows in a part of his brain that seems distant and just out of reach, but his newly healed knees collapse beneath him on the last foot and he falls against the pod.

 

The glass is cool beneath his fingers and when Keith looks up Shiro is suspended above him.

 

His eyes are closed, but his complexion is a healthier colour and when Keith squints to see through the curved glass he can make out the rise and fall of his chest. He's breathing. Not chained up in a Galra ship, nor lying dead on a plant millions of light years from his home.

 

_ Alive _ .

 

Keith lets himself go lax then and he lowers his head to the lower part of the cyropod as if in worship. His chest constricts around his next breath and the sound that rips out of him echoes around the room.

 

Tears fall onto his hands and bare arms, and Keith can't hear around the sobs and his own racing heart beat.

 

He's alive.

 

Safe.

 

They've made it.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I think I have enough juice for a cuddlier, shippier epilogue soon so stay tuned for that.
> 
> Lyrics are from "Legion" by VNV Nation, title is from the song f the same name by Electric President.


End file.
